


Human Buddy

by BernRul



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Gen, Michael becomes human, Missing Scene, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26295766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BernRul/pseuds/BernRul
Summary: Going from demon to human is a weird adjustment. Luckily, Michael has Eleanor to help.
Relationships: Michael (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Human Buddy

**Author's Note:**

> Was not expecting to venture into hellstrop territory again, but here we go. Heads up that there's a brief reference to torture.

"Wait, you're doing it now?" Michael says.

"Michael, I assure you that it's a quick and painless process. It takes only one hundredth of a second," Janet tells him, her voice as soothing as ever. "But if you're not ready, we can wait."

 _Okay, Mikey, you got this._ He's already spent a millennia in his skin suit--how different can it be?

"I'm ready," he says, closing his eyes. 

In a delightfully ironic twist, Janet snaps her fingers. Michael opens his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Eleanor asks.

Michael had always been aware of his duel essence. He felt his skin suit's human features, the dangling bits and the millions of nerve endings ripe for the torturing. At the same time, he still felt his demonic spirit, the fiery tentacles writhing in his chest. He had a "physical" body, sure, he could reach out and touch the humans if he wanted, could share in Eleanor's disgusting shrimp dispenser, but his true self was always something more ethereal. 

Now, for the first time, he felt weighted down. Fully rooted to the world.

"My knees hurt," he says, sounding downright cheerful about it. "And--oh, what's this feeling in my stomach? It's like pain but not."

"You're hungry," Janet informs him. "Your human body was designed to closely mimic what you'll experience on Earth, even though you are currently in the Good Place. This way you have extra time to adjust to your new humanity before going to Earth."

"Great," Eleanor says, clapping her hands together. The sound echoes across the clown house. "Let's get started on those human lessons, newly human buddy."

Said lessons include:

The correct way to use a Q-tip. ("It's like an orgasm for your ears," Eleanor explains, "but you can really fork up your ears if you aren't careful. Happened to me twice. The first time, the doctor was a real bench about it. 'Oh, how could you be so careless?' So the second time, I waited it out so I wouldn't have to deal with her.")

How to blow his nose. ("Don't just honk, dude, you'er not a trumpet. _Blow_ the air out.")

How to cure a hangover. ("You're gonna hear all kinds of bullshirt but really all you need is water. Stay hydrated.")

How to snag a good parking spot. ("Never try a handicapped spot. But sometimes I'd park in the expectant mother lane and stick my gut out. It won't work for you, though. You probably shouldn't try anything shady because it'll cost you a few points. Don't get all Doug Forcett about it, but you don't want to be an ash hole either.")

He could spend an eternity listening to Eleanor, but they don't have an eternity. They have an afternoon, and boy, does he suddenly realize how short an afternoon is. He never appreciated how quickly time went by until the day Jason walked through the doorway. Every "day" was the same for a demon--rip the eyeballs out of your new batch of humans, design the blueprints for your own personal hell, etc.--until time began snatching his friends away. 

"Don't look so down, human buddy," Eleanor says, throwing her arm around Michael's shoulders. She has to stand on her tiptoes, and even then she barely reaches him. "We can have a totally legit human sleepover."

"Really?" he beams. "But what about Janet?"

Janet smiles pleasantly. "I'm sorry, Michael, but I have to take care of the other residents. I'll be back tomorrow. Tahani should be coming, too."

They've had plenty of sleepovers before, just the two of them and as a whole group. They made pillow forts that collapsed on Chidi's head and binge watched _Community_. Their popcorn food fights were epic: Michael still found kernels in his hair days later. But he was a _demon_ for those sleepovers. Before, when he gorged on pizza and popcorn shrimp, he only enjoyed the taste; now the sensation was accompanied by a pleasantly full feeling. For the first time, there were consequences for drinking a margarita (only one, he wasn't getting drunk)and a litre of Mountain Dew Code Red (in Jason's honor).

Then came the "sleeping" part of the sleepover.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks, shifting around in his new sushi-patterned pajamas (Eleanor's idea of a joke).

"Course, dude," she says, pulling the covers back. "Sleepover etiquette says that if you don't have sleeping bags, you share a bed. Or the sofa, but I'm not making your squish onto that tiny ash thing."

They slide in side by side. This isn't the first time he and Eleanor shared a bed. It happened frequently during the experiment, and then again after Chidi left. It is, however, the first time he's ever tried to sleep.

"How am I supposed to...?" he asks, staring up at the dark ceiling.

"Not by being as stiff as a forking board," Eleanor says. " _Relax._ Loosen that posture. Here."

Eleanor's hands kneed his shoulders, fingers twisting into his skin.

"Where did you learn that?" he moans. He should be embarrassed, but he's not.

"You," she says, loosening thee knot between his shoulder blades. "I'm copying your technique."

"But I used my extra senses to see where you were tense. I didn't know--ah--it could feel so good from a human." 

"I'll try not to be insulted," she smirked.

He relaxes under her ministrations. Eleanor's head dips close enough to his that he could kiss her effortlessly. He's done it plenty of times. Kisses and more than kisses, in the office after a frustrating report of Brent giving Simone unsolicited hair styling advice, or on the sofa, the _Real Housewives_ drama forgotten. He knew Eleanor's touch but not her love. At least, not the same love he felt for her, or she felt for Chidi. But maybe their relationship didn't need to be labeled. They simply are.

Or _were._ Soon Michael will be on Earth, and Eleanor will be...

He pushes the thought out of his mind. That certainly won't help him relax.

Screams echo across the chamber. The high-pitched, "No, please!" is wrenched into incoherent babbling. The woman's blue-green eyes have gone glassy, her blonde hair drenched in sweat. Blood trickles down the corner of her mouth. It's on his hands, too, all the way down to his elbow. He holds a long, slimy mass of intestines.

"Michael," the woman gaps in a shuddering breath. "How could you do this?"

"No, no, no!"

"Michael! Michael, stop, it's okay."

He isn't in a torture chamber. He isn't in the Bad Place. He's in bed, covered in sweat, with Eleanor leaning over him.

"You had a nightmare," she tells him.

" _That_ was a nightmare?" he says, peering up into her eyes as a way to anchor himself. "It felt so real."

"It wasn't, though," she says firmly. "Nightmares aren't real, they don't predict the future. It's just your anxieties. It's normal to feel anxious when you're going through some big changes."

He chews on his lip.

"I guess I'm just realizing that there's not a lot of time left," he says quietly. "Only a week and then I'm on Earth and you...I won't see you again."

Tears spring up in the corners of his eyes, but he doesn't bother to hide them. As a demon, time was infinite. As a human, it's fleeting. 

Eleanor's hand gently pushes through his hair. She presses her lips against his forehead. She moves down to his lips, and he eagerly returns the kiss, savoring the feeling of her body pressed against his.

Eventually, she pulls back. "You know, Chidi taught me something. Endings are not bad. Goodbyes are not bad. It hurts, yeah. It sucks. But that's life--or afterlife--and it's not _bad._ Because the people you loved, the memories you shared, the times you had, never fully leave. I loved every moment we had together, Michael, even the bad ones. That love doesn't stop. I don't know what's going to happen when I go through the door, but I know that love will always be with me. And with you, too."

Michael doesn't say anything. He strokes Eleanor's cheek, listening to her steady breathing. They lay together, wrapped in each other's limbs, until Michael finally drifts off to sleep.


End file.
